Cone 10
by Oranis
Summary: [HitsuIchigo] Despite their incredibly different lifestyles, Hitsugaya and Ichigo are brought closer together by a series of accidents that only strengthens the developing bond between them.AU, WAFF, YAOI: if you couldn't tell from the pairing


Title: Cone 10

Warnings: Yaoi, Waff, AU

Pairing: Ichigo X Hitsugaya (Eat it, HitsuHina fans)

A/N can be found at the end of this here little story of mine.

Many thanks to my beta: Hill4Prez08. (I just work with him, not his political delusions.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach nor its characters. I gain no profit whatsoever from writing this.

XXXXXXScene Change

/Bleh/Thoughts

YYYtime passing/POV change/Just about any literary device I wish to employ, use context to figure it out.

Without further ado, on to the fic!

XXXXXX

Today was really not Hitsugaya's day. He had gotten home last night around 1 a.m. and now he had to wake up at four to go straight back to the hell hole he had just left: Blessed Savior Hospital, where he was head of the Oncology Department. At the age of 23, he was certifiably a child prodigy.

It was his third week acting as the head of oncology at the hospital, and more than one doctor under him had taken great umbrage at having a 23 year old squirt give them, who had toiled their entire lives to get as far as they had, orders. They did their damndest to be sure he understood this as well.

Rolling off his bed, he took a look out the window, only to see that it was still dark outside. /Always darkest just before it turns pitch black, eh/ he thought sardonically as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower.

When he finally made it to his kitchen and tried to make some eggs he quickly discovered that he was out, though that really didn't matter as the natural gas was apparently not working.

Choosing to instead subside on cheerios, Hitsugaya looked around his trashy apartment. Though he was head of oncology, he still had well over $150,000 of student loans to pay. So, for at least another year, he would be forced to survive off his current situation.

Feeling slightly sick with himself for the momentary self pity, he got up and finished dressing.

Checking the clock one last time as he finished the Windsor knot on his tie, he realized he was slightly late.

He quickly grabbed his briefcase and hurried out the door, keys in hand.

YYY

Hitsugaya found himself lying on asphalt glaring at his car, reviewing just how this situation came into being.

He was relatively sure it was something to do with the fact that his radiator had apparently sprung a leak, and as a result, his engine had caught fire half way to work.

Needless to say, it was rather startling for the doctor who quickly pulled the car over onto the shoulder of the abandoned road he was driving on, killed the engine, got out with a speed he was as of yet unaware that he possessed, and then watched helplessly as his engine continued to spew gouts of flame from under the hood.

Deciding that it would be a bad idea to try and open the hood that was recently bathed in flame, Hitsugaya sat down and pulled out his cell phone. He decided to call in to let the hospital know he wouldn't be able to make it today; only to find its battery had run out.

At that point an extreme wave of apathy overcame him, and he decided to lie down next to his car, contemplating just how he had gotten into this situation.

He just wanted to go home, lie down and hit the reset button on this god forsaken day.

Since he was fresh out of omnipotence, Hitsugaya recalled a sign on the road a little ways back for some sort of pottery studio or some other crap; if nothing else it might have a phone.

Heaving himself off of the ground Hitsugaya started off in the direction of this supposed art studio.

/Good God, why me/ Hitsugaya thought to himself.

XXXXXX

Ichigo was having a good day so far. He had gotten up at 5 a.m. as usual and started his day.

After a shower and nice breakfast of fried eggs, he walked outside into the crisp morning air of his farm. Well, it was designed as a farm, but it wasn't really used as such any more. He just raised a few oxen now, and used them to help him plow his own little field to make his own food. He was only using a tiny amount of the land given to him by his father when he decided to move out of the city. Apparently the land was an heirloom of the family that his dad had just _forgotten_ to mention.

After Ichigo had gotten out of high school, he had decided to not go to college and instead come out here to Mukwonago Wisconsin and subside on his own for a while. He might go back to college; he hadn't really decided yet.

Ichigo made quick work of his daily chores, checking the oxen, feeding them, and so on.

The oxen he had labeled 'Bertha' was still giving him problems. She hated Ichigo, and every time Ichigo tried to approach her, all she would do was attempt a new and even more creative way to kill Ichigo. She was apparently running out of ideas; today it was just a standard kick from the rear legs, which Ichigo only managed to evade by leaping to the side gracelessly in a sort of sickly pirouette. Indeed, today was going well, he had survived an encounter with Bertha without so much as a bruise.

After mucking out the stalls, it was already seven o'clock, and his real job was about to begin.

Ichigo quickly gathered all his oxen materials and tools and quickly threw them into their respective places and made his way back up to the house.

He had just entered, when a knock came upon his door.

/A little early for customers…/ thought Ichigo, before making his way over to the door to admit the visitor.

He opened the door, and standing in front of him was a small boy no taller than 5'4", with shockingly white hair, dressed in full formal wear, complete with slacks, suit and tie.

Ichigo blinked. Judging from his face, Ichigo guessed this kid couldn't be a day over 16. Yet, here he was with white hair and formal dress, and, not to mention, the kid exuded a veritable aura of command that made him seem far older than he appeared. Ichigo was thoroughly confused. /What do I say? How do I act? What the Hell/

Hitsugaya saw the standard reaction appear on the face of the man standing in front of him. He was used to it by now.

"Hello, my name is Hitsugaya Toushirou; may I use your phone?" asked Hitsugaya formally.

"Er… yeah, sure, it right over there." said Ichigo, pointing into his kitchen.

"Thank you." said Hitsugaya, in the same expressionless formal tone as he walked past Ichigo to the phone.

He quickly dialed the number, said what he needed to say in as concise a way as he could, and then hung up the phone.

Ichigo heard a few snippets of the conversation; something about his car breaking down, and he wasn't going to make it to work today.

Ichigo was about to offer him a ride. He could easily have Renji take over for a while, but the phone rang the second Hitsugaya set the phone on the receiver.

Ichigo quickly made his way to the phone and answered.

"Yellow." Ichigo said nonchalantly into the receiver.

Hitsugaya figured it would be rude to just leave without thanking this man for letting him use the phone, so he decided to wait for the man to finish his call before departing.

"Oh, come on Renji, of all the days…" There was a pause. "Fine, fine, I'll see ya tomorrow then…yeah…bye," Ichigo finished with a sigh.

Hanging up the receiver, Hitsugaya began, "Thanks for letting me use your phone. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, no problem. Hey, look, your car broke down. Do you have a plan, or need some help or anything?" asked Ichigo, looking at the white haired man in front of him. He decided on man; boy definitely didn't fit.

"Eh, well, since it was just my radiator, I figure it should be cool enough to touch by now so I'll just patch it up with duct tape and use some bottled water to get it back home," said Hitsugaya, slightly surprised by the generosity.

"Yanno, if you want to stick around for a few hours, I could give you a ride," Ichigo said, for some reason he wanted to spend some time with this stranger. He couldn't really explain it, but he felt like he should get to know him.

Hitsugaya almost responded without thinking, intending to tell him no. Then some part of him stopped himself, and before he was fully aware of what was going on, he said "Sure, why not?"

Hitsugaya almost looked as surprised as Ichigo by this sudden turn of events, but the more Hitsugaya thought about it, he already had the day off anyway. He didn't really have anything better to do, so why not spend it here?

A grin quickly replaced the look of surprise on Ichigo's face.

"Cool man, I only have a few more commissions to finish, so it shouldn't take long," said Ichigo.

"Commissions of what?" asked Hitsugaya, slightly nervous about what he had gotten himself into.

"You'll just have to wait and see Hit. Come on, follow me," said Ichigo, turning towards the front door Hitsugaya had just entered from.

Hitsugaya followed him out of the house with a slightly confused expression on his face.

"Oi! Where are we going?" Hitsugaya finally asked, getting slightly impatient.

"Right there," said Ichigo, pointing to a small building about 50 meters from the main house.

Hitsugaya looked at the structure incredulously for a second before running to catch up the orange haired man.

"What's your name anyways?" asked Hitsugaya when he caught up to Ichigo.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell ya, didn't I? I'm Ichigo, Kurosaki Ichigo," replied Ichigo, rather embarrassed at having forgotten to introduce himself.

"Here we are," said Ichigo as he drew level with the main door of the small building and heaved the sliding door open.

Hitsugaya stared inside, not really knowing what to expect, and was a little surprised to find it wasn't a carpentry workshop as he had guessed, but a ceramic studio inside the one-time-stable.

Every surface was covered in clay powder. There were two wheels, a wedging station, a kiln, and what seemed to be a small laboratory in one corner with jars of chemicals everywhere.

"You'll probably want to wear this," said Ichigo, handing a smock over to Hitsugaya. "For that matter, you probably don't want to wear anything you have on right now. Here, I know I have some spare…" Ichigo trailed off as he went to a near by cabinet and pulled out a disposable one piece jumpsuit.

"There you go, you can use the bathroom to change if you want." said Ichigo, throwing the jumpsuit at Hitsugaya and indicating another door off to the side.

Hitsugaya caught the jumpsuit by reflex, and stared at it for a moment, before idly wondering to himself when he had signed up for this. He mulled this over as he walked into the bathroom to change.

When he returned, Ichigo had already gotten into a clay encased smock and was wedging some clay on the canvas covered table in the center of the room, occasionally tossing some extra powder onto the clay from a big bag labeled "Goldart."

Hitsugaya made his way over to him, and watched as Ichigo worked the clay. It was just like kneading dough, though clay was more plastic than elastic unlike bread dough. The table began to rock as Ichigo threw his wrists harder and harder into the clay, using the weight of his own body to attack the clay.

Looking up from his work, Ichigo noticed Hitsugaya standing there watching him. A small part of him became self conscious, but he quashed it quickly and said, "Have you ever thrown on the wheel before?"

"Uh, no, I can't say I have," said Hitsugaya, caught slightly off guard by the sudden question.

"Today's as good a day as any to learn," said Ichigo, as he tore off a chunk of clay from the main mass he was working on and tossed it to Hitsugaya, who caught it. "Just do what I'm doing. The idea here is to get all the air bubbles out of the clay. Otherwise they'll come back and bite you in the ass when you try and throw."

Hitsugaya nodded and then began to imitate Ichigo's motions, the muscles on his forearms cording out.

Ichigo stared for a second, surprised at the amount of strength the small man apparently had. He didn't seem that strong when Ichigo had first observed him, but now, with his arms exposed, it was obvious he was significantly stronger than his small form implied.

Ichigo also couldn't help but notice just how attractive this man was, with his white hair and small, strong body. He was a strange combination of hot and cute, especially in the slightly over sized white jumpsuit that was severely drawn into place by rolling up both the sleeves and the ankles.

Ichigo quickly returned his attention to his clay, hopefully before the other man noticed his wandering eyes.

"That should be good enough," said Ichigo, taking his large chunk of clay and dividing it up into fourths by use of some fishing wire he pulled out of the pocket of the smock he wore, and molded each of the quarters into balls the size of large softballs.

Hitsugaya looked up from what he was doing to see Ichigo walking over to one of the two wheels.

"Why are there two? Er…wheels, that is." asked Hitsugaya as he took his clay and molded it into the same shape that Ichigo had just produced.

"Oh, yeah, Renji is my partner, we normally work together on the commissions, but he's sick today…so… yeah," said Ichigo as he absent-mindedly fixed the bat to the wheel and slapped his first ball of clay down onto the bat.

Hitsugaya felt something inside him twinge at the comment. He didn't really understand why, but something about what Ichigo had said rankled him. This was not shown by his expression. He kept the same neutral, slightly apathetic, face on the entire time. No need for others to know what you think before you want them too.

Hitsugaya moved away from the wedging table and made his way to the wheel adjacent to Ichigo's, his white jumpsuit letting out a crinkling noise as he walked, like day old newspaper being crushed.

"So…how does this work?" asked Hitsugaya as he took a seat next to Ichigo on the little stool put in place directly behind the wheel.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, this is your first time," said Ichigo, quickly standing from his wheel and moving to stand in front of Hitsugaya. "This'll probably be a lot easier if I help you for your first one. Then you just need to screw around with it all you like and teach yourself how to do it. It's kinda like riding a bike in that sense. I can only explain so much, you just gotta do it yourself."

"K, now, grab a bat there…it's that circular plate looking thing…yeah that's it…now place it on the wheel, align the holes with the pins…yeah that's right…now, smack the clay down in the center there, good. Now's the hard part, I'll help you center it. Get your hands wet, and then the clay, good, now…"

Hitsugaya grunted acknowledgements as Ichigo gave him instructions, but was more than a little surprised when Ichigo grabbed his hands.

Hitsugaya looked up at Ichigo, slightly startled, but then looked back down at the clay, as that was where Ichigo was staring intently.

"Now, start spinning the wheel…good, now all you do…"

Ichigo crouched down and lead Hitsugaya's hands down onto the clay.

Hitsugaya had never felt anything like it. The way clay was slid under his fingers was a strange and alien feeling; that combined with Ichigo's strong hands on top of his own, guiding him…it was the strangest experience.

For a second time that day, he felt something strange bubble up inside him. Some emotion he wasn't used to and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

Ichigo applied pressure to his hands, and Hitsugaya felt a tinge of color hit his cheeks as Ichigo lead him. Hitsugaya redoubled his efforts to try and strictly concentrate on what was happening to the clay.

He focused on how Ichigo moved his hands, adjusting to the clay as it distorted and finally reformed into a perfect disc of clay spinning in the center of the wheel.

"There, see, it ain't so hard," said Ichigo as he stood up and made his way back over to his wheel and sat down, his attention returning to his own work.

"From now on, just screw around with the clay. After I finish this up, I'll be able to get you back to your house," said Ichigo, a grin on his face as he turned to look at Hitsugaya.

Truth be told, he wasn't happy about that at all. He had really taken a liking to the guy sitting next to him. He couldn't really explain it, he just liked him. He seemed so in control of the situation, no matter what it was. Ichigo was sure that a small bomb could go off in the little building and the guy wouldn't so much as flinch; he'd just quirk a sardonic eyebrow and then calming analyze the situation. Ichigo inwardly chuckled a little at that mental image.

Hitsugaya felt his mood, which he realized at that moment had actually been pretty good, drop a little at the mention of leaving.

"Yeah, sounds good," said Hitsugaya, somewhat less enthusiastically than he had intended. He didn't exactly want this other man to get an idea of just how much he was enjoying being with him.

Ichigo turned his attention to his work and began to work on the four piece pitcher set that was commissioned by someone who was not important enough for him to remember their name.

He centered the first ball of clay in a few moments. Soon after he opened the clay with his thumb and began to first pull.

All the while, Hitsugaya had been doing exactly what Ichigo had suggested. He was screwing around with his clay. His first attempt to open the clay failed horribly. He had punched through the base of the clay, straight down to the bat. That wasn't that bad though, he could still make something from that. He immediately began to try and imitate Ichigo's movements, locking his hands together at the space between the thumb and first finger, and then trying to pull the clay with his middle fingers. At first, he was mildly successful, but he pulled too hard and ended up throwing the clay off center. Then a wrinkle formed in the clay, and the clay tore and chunks flew off the wheel as Hitsugaya desperately attempted to turn it off.

Ichigo looked over and chuckled a little at the scene playing out next to him. The calm cool and collected man was now neither calm nor cool. He was pissed and frustrated, his eyebrow twitching violently.

"It's no big deal, just throw the clay into the slop bucket and wedge some more. Don't worry about how much you use. I recycle all of it," said Ichigo, suppressing the urge to laugh at Hitsugaya's expression, while indicating a bucket next to the wheels.

Hitsugaya did not like this. He wasn't used to not being able to get the hang of something on his first try. He could understand a 500 level course of calculus and advanced mathematics with only showing up to half the lectures, but apparently couldn't get the hang of something so common place as pottery? No, that could not be.

Gathering the ruins of his first piece and throwing them into the slop bucket, Hitsugaya retrieved some more clay from a large garbage bin and wedged another hunk of clay, while taking a somewhat envious glare at Ichigo as he seemingly effortlessly finished pulling his clay into a massive cylinder, only to distort it, giving it an elegant curve and adding a spout at the top.

/Damn him/ thought Hitsugaya.

Not about to be out-done, Hitsugaya quickly wedged some more clay and got back to his wheel, ready to prove that he was capable.

He soon found that centering the clay was infinitely harder than what Ichigo had shown him. Trying his damndest to remember what Ichigo had done to center the clay, Hitsugaya tried to mimic those movements. It didn't work. Far from the perfect disc of clay spinning serenely in the center of the wheel, as Ichigo had shown him, his sad excuse for a piece spun sickeningly in the center of his wheel, it's shape more akin to a malignant tumor than to a centered piece of clay.

Just about fed up with this whole clay throwing business, he decided to be self deprecating and look over at what Ichigo had turned out while he had been vainly attempting to throw.

Ichigo was now on his third pitcher. Each piece of his set varied in size, but all of them had the same unifying features. It was a little awe inspiring to watch as he effortlessly formed the clay into such magnificent structures. Hitsugaya found himself staring; it was just like staring at the ocean or a lava lamp, it in-and-of-itself, was captivating to watch.

Not just the process of throwing the pot, but Ichigo himself. Ichigo was tall, and gave off the impression of strength, despite his lanky form… but lanky wasn't the right term…lithe maybe. Ichigo had a sinuous strength about him that fascinated Hitsugaya, not to mention his bright orange hair, which, as far as Hitsugaya could tell, was completely natural. His face had high cheekbones and a masculine jaw which only added to his air of masculinity.

Completely giving up on trying to make something out of his clay, Hitsugaya got up, threw it into the slop bucket, and cleaned up his wheel. He rinsed off the tools in the sink before quickly making his way back over to watch Ichigo finish up the last piece, which also happened to be the largest.

Ichigo didn't notice as Hitsugaya stopped his own work and just watched him as he finished; he was completely preoccupied with the piece in front of him.

He first formed a cylinder about three feet tall, and was now working on giving it form. The unifying theme for this whole set had ended up being a hyperbolic shape, so he began to pull the center of the cylinder inwards while expanding the base and the lip. He couldn't expand too far; the clay was w pretty wet and thin already. If it expanded too much, the whole piece would collapse on top of itself.

Soon the final shape had been formed, and Ichigo quickly stopped the wheel. The number one rule of wheel throwing was always to stop while you were ahead. It was unwritten law that any piece you try to improve upon after accomplishing what you had set out to do would always, invariably, be destroyed by your own hand. Besides, you left the final touches for trimming.

Standing up, Ichigo was startled to find Hitsugaya standing in front of his wheel watching him. Ichigo became very self conscious all of a sudden, a slight tint forming on his face under the scrutiny of those hard, calculating, emerald eyes. It was unnerving how serious this guy's face could become at a moment's notice. Seriously, you'd think someone had just died.

/How long has he been standing there…/ a rather hysteric voice in Ichigo's head questioned.

Hitsugaya looked up from the piece as Ichigo turned off the wheel and looked up at the orange haired man, who looked back rather timidly at him, as though he was afraid Hitsugaya was about to berate his work. /Fool/ thought Hitsugaya in a way such that it was not meant to be derisive at all. It was almost warm.

"Yeah, it isn't much now, but once I trim it, it'll be better," said Ichigo.

"It looks great," said Hitsugaya, matter of factly, as though he was stating the simple truth of the matter.

"Oh, yeah, well…" said Ichigo as he got up and moved to a cabinet off to one wall of the little studio where he had placed his previous works from this set. He loosely wrapped his piece in a large garbage bag so that it could partially dry out over night so that it would be leather hard by tomorrow. That way, he could trim the set and fire it by the end of the week.

"I'll go get dressed then," said Hitsugaya as he headed for the bath room where his formal wear was.

"Er, yeah," said Ichigo dumbly, as he failed to think of an excuse to keep the man here.

YYY

When Hitsugaya got out of the bath room, he found Ichigo had finished cleaning up his wheel, had taken off his clay encrusted smock, and was waiting for him.

"Yeah…so… let's go," said Hitsugaya, somewhat reluctantly as he walked toward Ichigo.

"Right," said Ichigo, equally as reluctant.

The pair made it half way to the door, when Ichigo stopped.

"Yanno, if you want to hang around for a while yet, I still have a raku firing to do. I was planning on putting it off because Renji is sick today, but if you wanted to give me a hand, we could do it," said Ichigo, not wanting this to end. He had the feeling, just a gut feeling, that Hitsugaya felt the same way.

"Yeah, that would be fun," replied Hitsugaya, a feeling of joy bubbling up inside him at the thought of being able to stay a while longer yet.

"Cool man. Here, come with me. Let's get all the stuff set up," said Ichigo, pointing to a cement slab just outside of the studio.

"Sure…by the way, what is raku?" asked Hitsugaya as he walked with Ichigo over to the cement pad.

Ichigo chuckled in a friendly way.

XXXXXX

A massive gout of flame burst up, and Hitsugaya was relatively sure he smelled a few smoldering hairs.

"Careful with the flash there!" yelled Ichigo as he tended to his fireproof containers. He would occasionally take one of the steel buckets that served as a lid off one just long enough for the newspaper inside to catch fire again, before slamming the bucket back down over the piece.

Hitsugaya had his sleeves rolled up and welding gloves on as he took pieces from the Raku kiln which were still glowing a hissing red, set them in a bed of sawdust, and then started rubbing the pieces with crumpled up newspaper. The newspaper ignited immediately, the flames licking the side of the pot setting off a complex chain reaction with the copper in the glaze. The pot would immediately start flashing through all the colors of the rainbow at a blinding pace. The trick was to cover an area that hit the color you wanted under the sawdust, thus depriving it of oxygen and stopping the reaction, which would inevitably reveal another section the pot which would begin to react with the oxygen. Thus the process would start all over again until Hitsugaya was finished. He would then throw the still flaming-hot piece into the quenching water and hope that it didn't explode like a small bomb from the shock or shoot him with flesh-melting super heated steam.

So far he had been extremely successful, only losing three pots to explosions, and managing to get some really fascinating colors on the surviving pots. He seemed to have a knack for flashing, which was why Ichigo had left it to him while he focused on the reduction pieces, which involved a slower, smoke-based post-firing procedure.

Hitsugaya realized just how much fun he was having when he felt a genuine smile cross his face as he grabbed the piece that he was working on with the tongs and quickly quenched it, giving it minimal exposure to air to try and prevent the reaction from starting again. He hadn't felt this at ease doing anything with anyone for so long, if ever. He felt at home, here, working with Ichigo.

YYY

"FUCK!" the scream was torn from Ichigo's throat as a pot fell from his tongs and grazed his leg, setting fire to his pants and giving him, at the very least, some second degree burns.

Hitsugaya spun around only to see Ichigo being turned into a human torch and acted without thinking.

The piece he was working on crashed to the ground and shattered as he charged Ichigo, sending both of them flying off the cement pad and into the grass. Hitsugaya immediately began to tear at the earth underneath him and rubbed it into the flames. They were quickly extinguished, and Hitsugaya began assessing the damage to the leg.

It wasn't too bad. There wouldn't be too much scarring, and it seemed superficial for the most part. He wouldn't be moving for a while, and it would hurt like hell.

"Don't move," said Hitsugaya in a commanding tone.

Ichigo didn't really hear him and didn't think he would be able to comprehend him even if he had. The pain searing through his leg went beyond pain. It was unimaginable. His mind was white with its presence.

Hitsugaya quickly stood up, not caring that his own clothes were hopelessly ruined. He ran over to the Raku station they had set up, turned off the propane tanks that fueled the kilns, and rushed back to Ichigo. He quickly stooped down and heaved Ichigo up into a fireman's carry. He was slightly surprised at how much Ichigo weighed. /He must have more muscle than I figured/ thought Hitsugaya absent-mindedly as he rushed Ichigo back towards the main house area.

Ichigo, had he had presence of mind at the moment, would have been amazed that this small man had simply heaved him onto his back and was now running across the yard with him. The man was probably stronger than he seemed but this was ridiculous.

Hitsugaya kicked in the front door and went straight to the kitchen area, where he laid Ichigo down on the table there.

Quickly grabbing a kitchen sheers, Hitsugaya cut away what he could of the pant leg that had caught fire.

"Ichigo! OI! Ichigo!" yelled Hitsugaya, trying to get his attention.

"What." ground out Ichigo fighting as hard as he could not to black out from the pain.

"Do you have health insurance?" asked Hitsugaya, thinking through his options.

"Does it look like I have health insurance, dumbass!" Ichigo practically screamed, not caring if he was being a prick to the one person who could help him at the moment; he needed to vent his pain somewhere.

"Do you want me to operate on you?" asked Hitsugaya. He didn't really plan on doing much, but he had to extract the clothing from the wound and bandage it.

"Operate? The fuck do you mean? Who are you?" demanded Ichigo, pissed and confused at the same time.

"I'm a doctor, and unless you want to be paying off hospital bills the rest of your conscious life, you'll let me help you." responded Hitsugaya, as patiently as he could.

"Fuck! Whatever! Just do something!" Ichigo was nearly crying from the pain now.

"This'll hurt. A lot." said Hitsugaya, choosing a knife from the knife block and several other cooking utensils. "Do you have any hard liquor around here?"

"Yeah, third cabinet on the left," gasped Ichigo.

Hitsugaya quickly retrieved brandy, of all things, and quickly dumped half of the full bottle into a pitcher he found in an adjacent cabinet. He quickly dunked the make-shift surgical utensils he intended to use into it to sterilize them.

Hitsugaya then quickly made his way over to Ichigo. "Drink this. All of it," ordered Hitsugaya, handing the half-empty bottle to Ichigo.

Taking up Ichigo's paring knife and tweezers he had found, Hitsugaya began to work.

Ichigo screamed.

XXXXXX

The semi-surgery only lasted an hour or so, but it seemed like so much longer to Ichigo, who was crying by the end, brandy or no.

Hitsugaya was thoroughly impressed. He had fully expected Ichigo to pass out from the pain half way through the procedure, but he seemed to be made of tough stuff.

Hitsugaya had taken his own shirt and torn it to shreds to make a bandage wrap around the burn wound, leaving him with only his undershirt. Truth be told, the wound wasn't that bad, and the procedure he had performed hadn't been that drastic; it was simply the fact that burns hurt worse than any other type of injury. He would probably have minimal scarring, if any.

Hitsugaya moved to sit next to Ichigo's head.

Ichigo was staring at him through sweat soaked bangs. Hitsugaya moved his hand forward and gently brushed the hair from his face.

"You look like shit." said Hitsugaya gently.

Ichigo quirked a smile at him. "Thanks," he managed to croak out, his voice cracked from screaming.

"I think you need to sleep now…here, where's your bed room?" asked Hitsugaya.

"Over there," said Ichigo pointing to a stairway leading to the second story.

"Right," said Hitsugaya and he bent down and picked Ichigo up again, and carried him up the stairs to his room.

The room was simple; not much more there than was necessary to survive. Hitsugaya made his way over to the bed and gently laid Ichigo down upon it. He pulled the covers over Ichigo and was about to leave to go downstairs with every intention to let Ichigo rest, when a hand caught his.

"Stay," it was one simple word. Just one, but it changed everything.

"A-are you sure?" asked Hitsugaya, slightly unsure of himself and the entire situation.

"Yeah." said Ichigo, with a quiet confidence in his voice as he gave Hitsugaya's hand another tug.

Hitsugaya obeyed, and followed the hand down to the body lying on the bed. He quickly, in an almost disbelieving, zombie-like state lay down next to Ichigo. This was so unlike him. He was not impulsive. He was not emotional. He was not…not…this person who was doing this.

Ichigo turned towards him, hissing slightly as he rolled over his burnt leg, and stared into Hitsugaya's eyes.

Neither said anything for a long while. They just lay there, staring into each other, before Ichigo reached out and wrapped his arms around Hitsugaya and pulled him close.

A moment later, Hitsugaya followed suit and wrapped his arms around Ichigo, pressing their bodies even closer, never breaking eye contact.

Ichigo was the first to move. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned forward, kissing Hitsugaya, who responded with the same kind of hazy drug like movements, deepening the kiss.

When it was over Ichigo pulled his head up and rested it on top of Hitsugaya's; burying it in the fluffy white locks. Possessively, almost desperately, Ichigo clutched Hitsugaya, who, he realized, was clutching him with equal vigor, burying his face in nape of Ichigo's neck.

Oblivion took them both, in each other's arms.

XXXXXX

A/N: How did this whole fic come into being you ask? Well, it mainly came about because a small piece of my soul died every time I saw another HitsuHina fic, or a HitsuMatsu fic. I'm sorry, but I absolutely loathe those pairings.

I'm not one to break up pairings that I believe are correct and good, i.e. I wouldn't ever try to beak up Lina and Gourry, nor Heero and Duo, (Just try and argue Heero and Relena, I dare you) but I do not believe that HitsuHina is a good pairing. It may be canonological (yes, I made up that word up because there is no other word that can get the point across) for Hitsugaya and Hinamori to hook up, but the pairing just plain doesn't feel right to me, nor does Matsumoto and Hitsugaya, hence my trashing both and opting for this route.

I do not read the manga, this is mainly due to the fact that I started out watching the anime, and if I were to start reading the manga now, all it would do is ruin the anime for me, so I'm hands off in that regard. It is also for this reason that I chose an AU fic, due to the fact that I now don't have to deal with trying to blindly guess my way through writing a fic where half of the audience knows twice as much canon as I do; that would only end in tears, so here I am, writing an AU fic. Just in case any of you were wondering.

If enough of you all like this, then I might consider a sequel to this little gem. Something to consider…no?

Until next time.

--Oranis—

P.S. I can't seem to find a source that will tell me definitively whether or not Hitsugaya's name is spelled Tourshiro or Toushirou. If any of you know, please tell me.

Editor's note: After reading this, I feel dirty… Not that there's anything wrong with that.

--Hill4prez08--


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